


Yobitsugi

by lechiffre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sibling Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechiffre/pseuds/lechiffre
Summary: "I see that you have kept the chocolates."Hanzo suppresses a flinch and doesn't turn around. Maybe if he is completely unresponsive, his brother will grow bored and they can keep postponing a proper conversation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> While I appreciate young Genji and Hanzo, cyborg Genji doesn't get enough love in Shimadacest fics. Shame.

Watchpoint Gibraltar seems blessedly deserted. Usually it's a conveyor belt sort of site, where their team convenes to await further instructions, the AI quick to identify hot spots of crisis. It's also the best stocked base in terms of refreshments and Hanzo saw some of the gorilla's blueprints to increase the comfort. He was prohibited by that same gorilla to take on another mission until he had a good sleep. Apparently, cutting through the Kremlin palace with his twin dragons was cause for concern. He still doesn't understand. He stayed true to his target, putting Talon's sniper on the run… right up until he toppled from the roof of the bus, Oxton's cry of alarm making him twitch back to his feet. At least none of his teammates were close enough to witness the exact moment of his disgrace. That colourful mecha girl would have pulled her phone out in the middle of the melee for sure.

He almost makes for the crew quarters before it clicks that he got his own room now that everybody is convinced he is here to stay. He passes the routine scan, makes a beeline for the bed and dumps the meagre contents of his backpack on the covers. Normally, he would have had to settle for even less, just what could fit into the folds and sleeves of his _kosode;_  another reason to switch to a modern apparel. He is rifling through for the piece of grindstone—the familiar motion of sharpening arrowheads something to relax his mind—when he notices footsteps. He didn't bother to check if the AI closed the door after him, since he thought the place completely empty.

"I see that you have kept the chocolates."

Hanzo suppresses a flinch and doesn't turn around. Maybe if he is completely unresponsive, his brother will grow bored and they can keep postponing a proper conversation.

Shapely legs enter his field of vision from the left, stop, a hand falls on a jutted hip. Genji is always one to pose. Hanzo screws his eyes shut, worries the sheets, wants to throw the cover off and let everything clatter to the floor. He has found an appreciation for his brother's new body, and not just because he associates it with Genji's soul that he will always love. Lately, when the need to touch himself grows too strong to ignore, he does it to snippets of a sword between metal shoulder blades, a green glowing visor, metal rubber arcs squeezing under a bare ass. Genji's mere presence makes his blood stir.

"You know... out of the two of us, I am the one who didn't almost kill the other person standing in the room, and yet, I do all the work. I am done with waiting. Your move, brother."

Despite the brash sin he shares his days with, Hanzo is not stupid. After an altered Genji revealed himself to grant Hanzo forgiveness, he thought about what it would mean for them now. He would have been pleased to be a mere ally. Their relationship, while not easy, would have entered a normal stage of distant older individuals, brothers just in name. That Genji acknowledged him was already too much. Then came the cake and the box of chocolates, and Hanzo is certain this place did not just happen to stay empty for their meeting. Genji is again the one liked by everyone. Song lets him doze on her shoulder and rubs his helmet clean with wet wipes. McCree picks him up for hugs. Oxton trades him English candy for _onigiri_. The omnic monk is the most privileged, as he gets to see his student's face the most. (From far behind, the only human aspect of his brother Hanzo can pick up are tufts of natural colour hair.) All this appreciation, and Genji uses it to make attempts at seducing him again. Hanzo cannot allow it.

"You are wrong!" The volume makes his voice barely sound like his own. Maybe he is just tired of inhabiting his mind, slips into delusions that he is somebody else. "You make it sound as if... as if I do not miss you." He deflates pathetically. "I don't punish myself so out of honour, if I ever even understood that word, but because I am no longer worthy to stand beside you. For all my wanderings, I couldn't even find the right path until this organisation. You are wasting your forgiveness, brother." Hanzo's knees hit the floor in prostration, the boards dusty beneath his palms.

Cold hands cradle his jaw, forcing him to look up. Genji's smirk is plain even through the impenetrable metal of his mask. "Yeah, this is fine." It's impossible for his brother to not recognise the _dogeza_ , but he frees Hanzo's hair from its top knot anyway, caresses the shaved sides of his head. He turns his feeble apology into something obscene. "You want to make it up to me?"

Hanzo feels his cheeks burn with shame and frustration as he moves to cling to Genji, giving a faint nod to consolidate his obvious answer. He is weak for not even trying to uphold his resolve. But it's sweet to finally give in, allow himself some pleasure after years of satisfying his desires with utilitarian simplicity. His body has never quite sung for anyone as it did for Genji. Maybe the dragons in them call for each other. Or maybe they are just fucked up. The clan has ultimately failed to separate them, who cares what a group of misfits in this new world thinks of them? His brother still wants him and he would offer anything in his power.

Genji, devil that he is, knows this. "Then I believe we should get reacquainted." He shimmies, trying to direct Hanzo's touch to more intimate places. Genji is toying with him right now, but Hanzo indulges him, because if memory serves well, his little brother will be a begging wreck before long.

Hanzo latches his mouth onto the synthetic skin above Genji's hip, surprised to find it so pliable. His hands trace idle patterns on armoured thighs. There is an immediate gasp above him. Hanzo stops what he's doing with his mouth to ask, "You can feel this?"

"Yes, the plating and skin are full of sensors to detect changes of temperature, pressure, damage registers as pain. But they respond to other stimuli as well," Genji explains, adding an unnecessary lecherous note to the last part. "I think I feel some things even better than when I was entirely human."

"I must remember to thank Doctor Ziegler for being so thorough," Hanzo says and means it. From what he has gathered, Overwatch had intended Genji to be no more than a weapon indebted to them, so it really does service to the doctor's character that she took the trouble to ensure her patient could still experience basic human acts. Hanzo cannot help but wonder if the good doctor showed the same level of consideration to other parts of Genji's anatomy, but for the moment, he is content to put aside the little his brother leaves to the imagination.

He kisses the inside of Genji's wrist, where he can almost follow the fine wiring under the exposed patch of synthetic skin. He teases the edges of the abdominal plate as he brings Genji ever closer, encircling the small of his back. Hanzo has to admit it's a bit awkward, the different textures of his brother's cyborg body more like an acquired taste. He finally lets his fingers slip lower to dig into Genji's ass and knead the buttocks, relieving his nasty subconscious of that recurring, agonizing itch.

Genji shudders against him, groans broken by the metallic filter. His crotch gets pushed into Hanzo's face, and there is definitely _something_ straining the codpiece. Hanzo looks upwards, speaking over the rush in his ears, "How do I go about—" His hand is snatched into Genji's, guided to the indeterminate square nub at the apex of his thighs. Hanzo presses it and the codpiece falls off with a dull clank.

His brother's cock is entirely flesh, the large curve of it swelling further, even as it dangles there completely unattended. Hanzo's head swims. They can still have this, no workarounds, just simple human contact. He reaches for Genji, stroking him to full erection. As silly as it is, he bends to brush a reverent kiss to the tip before wrapping his lips around the glans. His mouth is already secreting a generous amount of saliva, some of it escaping through the corners, dribbling on the shaft. Hanzo bobs down, takes as much of Genji's cock as he can, comes back up, buries his tongue into the slit.

"Fuck! You really— Really have a—" Genji's smart observation cuts into incoherent whimpers as Hanzo hollows his cheeks around him. "I thought I glimpsed something, but you really have a tongue piercing. Ngh, fuck you, that's so hot! More, more..."

For all his former experience (Genji could still get around in the present if his illumination in a monastery had not bereaved him of that desire, though Hanzo has not analysed Genji's interactions to that extent), his brother sometimes behaves like a selfish brat when it comes to sex. He scrabbles at Hanzo's back, pumps his hips, manages to hit the back of his throat. Hanzo knows that in terms of strength he is no match to Genji's augmented body, so he seeks to unbalance him by lifting one of Genji's legs over his shoulder. Genji likes to get a reaction out of him, be put in his place.

Hanzo drags his tongue on the underside of Genji's penis, alternates between broad and barely there swipes. He feels his piercing catching several times, which should be painful, would be to a vanilla sort of person; meanwhile, Genji is moaning filthy high notes, almost _keens_ when it happens. An exaggeration. His brother loves putting on a show, but Hanzo's own neglected dick throbs in response to the encouragement, nonetheless. He nuzzles his way to Genji's sack, sucks one of his balls into his mouth, fondles the other.

Genji can only attempt a litany of profanities around his breathlessness. "Since when did you become such a cockslut? Should I be jealous or... ah! Or is it that you're so hungry just for my cock? You're doing perfect, Hanzo. Augh, fuck! So good... hot everywhere…" As if on cue, the vents in Genji's shoulders pop their caps and release whiffs of steam. "Just give it to me, please, mmmmm, so hard for you, I want to come all over you, _Anija_ , please, let me. Enough already, please... "

His dick was eager before, but now it seems ready to rip through layers of material. Hanzo fists a hand and runs his knuckles over the fly of his jeans with a helpless groan that rumbles through his chest. He takes full advantage of their position, dips even lower and nips at Genji's perineum. Here, regular skin fades into artificial. His brother's whole frame goes lax, only his balls tighten as Hanzo licks a wet stripe to them, retracing his path.

He unhooks Genji's leg from his shoulder, supports him when he stumbles. The cock between them is leaking fat dollops of precome, demanding attention. Hanzo leans in to taste Genji at his most aroused, the effect he has on his brother threatening to undo him. He casts his eyes up, wishing Genji had taken off his helmet. It cannot be mere forgetfulness on his part, no, Genji gets off on it, simulates a modicum of control. Hanzo recognises it as one of the many games they used to play. He screws his eyelids shut, relaxes his throat around Genji's cock, doesn't stop until his forehead hits a hard abdomen.

Letting his hands wander through his dedicated blowjob, he grabs alloy suspenders on the backs of muscled thighs and finds them unexpectedly flexible. He stretches them to their limit, releases them with a snap that shoves Genji even further down his throat. He can hardly believe the sounds he's making as he swallows around the invading penis, not deterred in the slightest. Genji was right, he feels like he could suck on his brother's cock for eternity, while still being hungry for seconds.

A tap against his temple reminds Hanzo of Genji's slurred request. He pulls away reluctantly, smacking his lips against the long string of spit, watches Genji finish himself off with a couple of ruthless yanks. The come paints one side of his face in hot strings, some of it lands in his hair, sticks to his beard.

Hanzo dabs with the sleeve of his jacket at the mess, getting to his feet. "Let me see you."

Genji's hands hesitate only the slightest bit before they reach for the clasps at the back of his head. The mask unlocks with a hermetic hiss and as soon as he pries it off, Genji tries to duck his face, biting his lip.

"Don't." Hanzo's fingers settle under his brother's jaw, bumping against screws that hold metal lining in place. More metal patches the tip of Genji's chin, covers over where his ears should be. The thin skin around his eyes is battered from supernatural heat. What is not burned is spattered with cuts that resemble stylus scratches into the waxen face. Far from disfigured, the features still preserve their regularity while showing no overt sign of aging and yet… After an extensive self-acceptance training, Genji struts his robot body around, but hides the little humanity he has left. This is why Hanzo will never take the relief of forgiveness. 

Genji is alarmingly passive, his posture stiff. He flinches when Hanzo runs his knuckles feather-light over high cheekbones, all too eager to put an end to the examination as Hanzo closes the distance between them. At first, they just press their lips together with that youthful agitation from Hanzo's memories, but it doesn't take long for Genji to demonstrate his utter lack of decency. He plasters himself to Hanzo, coaxing his tongue into a wet tangle. He gets so absurdly thrilled at his piercing again that Hanzo can only swallow his enthusiastic pants.

He lets Genji free him of his jeans, or rather tear them, the button skipping to some dark corner, the zipper hopelessly ruined. His erection springs up from the elastic of his boxers, the last obstacle easier to shove down, and Hanzo hisses at the contact with a responding hardness, surprised at the nonexistent refractory period.

"Just once is rarely enough anymore," Genji whispers and resumes their kissing with a new vigour. His brother positively tongue-fucks him, probably chasing the remnants of his own taste. He is so good at distracting that Hanzo barely notices his jacket being slid off his shoulders.

A burning shiver pours down his spine and drops all the way to his toes as Genji starts playing with his pectorals through his tight fit T-shirt. Goosebumps prickle his thighs and upper arms, his nipples harden. Genji presses roughly on them with his thumbs over the cloth barrier, content to tease for the moment. Hanzo squirms, tries to make his discomfort known and is immediately rewarded when Genji reaches to peel the T-shirt from his sweaty skin, rolling it up to his armpits. Metal hands bless him with their cool touch, skimming across his taut abs impossibly soft and tickling his ribs before settling back on his pectorals. Hanzo's left nipple is pinched between thumb and forefinger, rolled and pulled, while the hands on him somehow manage to splay over his entire chest, squeezing relentlessly, giving him the most exquisite massage, and it's suddenly too much. The thick smell of their arousals, their cocks rubbing together so smoothly from their combined juices, Genji's warm, solid weight enveloping him, how he licks into his mouth, how he ruts against him. He has to put some distance between them right now, or he will explode from all this stimulation.

He pushes at Genji's shoulders. Pushes once more using actual force. His brother looks mildly irritated and confused. He even tuts like he does when Hanzo slows the internet connection in the rec room by pirating movies. Well, Hanzo did just cut short his favourite entertainment, so he supposes it's warranted to a degree.

Genji makes for him, but Hanzo plants his hands, keeping him at arm's length. "If you overwhelm me like that, I'm going to come."

"Isn't that the idea?" Genji asks, still out of sorts. As they devour Hanzo, his eyes flash a neon green, an inner, inexhaustible source of energy for the lights on his body. Hanzo finds it harder and harder to trust his judgment these days, when his imagination has turned from a trickle of ornaments into a spill.

"You let yourself forget about human limitations. Unlike you, I'm afraid I cannot—" Hanzo sighs. Perhaps coarse language will get his message across. "I cannot… get it up again so soon."

Silence.

A snort escapes Genji and Hanzo is willing to ignore it, because his brother has the courtesy to muffle his fit of laughter into his shoulder. He will be patient. Genji was thrown into his journey to maturity. Any moment now the laughter will stop.

He may not know how much air Genji requires as a cyborg, but he grows worried for the strain on his systems.

"Sorry, sorry," Genji chokes out, sounding anything but. "You just dropped that admission on me. And you were so serious! Hey… hey, you can relax, I understand. I could bust a nut just by looking at you. No trace of your usual preening, all dishevelled and flushed and covered in my come." He licks Hanzo's cheek where his sleeve must have missed a spot. "Besides, you have the excuse of getting older. I am feeling merciful tonight."

Genji motions towards the bed. "Here." The sheets rustle with his getting comfortable.

Hanzo lingers in the same position to gather himself. He finally strips his T-shirt off, messing about with the rumpled shape. He is not ready to turn around and confront the object of his desires spread on his bed, offering what he doesn't deserve. They moved too fast. They really should have talked. But when? If it weren't for Genji, he would have postponed this… confrontation indefinitely.

He is overthinking. They always have their most meaningful conversations through actions.

Genji doesn't disappoint. His brother presents himself like an expensive whore, his back dipped just so to emphasize his ass. He also had the presence of mind to set aside the various belongings on the bed, which lie respectfully tidied on the nightstands. Hanzo gropes the plush synthetics of a buttock, slips his other hand under the mattress to search for the bottle of lube, suddenly seized by the urge to leave a mark on this body that is not quite as hard and unyielding as it seems. Genji opens his legs wider, purring when Hanzo's fingers slip into his crack. His stare arrests him at the bedside.

"You are... not that old, now that I think of it." Of course Genji would drag the joke out. "There are pills for that, you know. Angela wouldn't mind writing you a prescription."

Hanzo leaps on the bed, drapes himself over Genji's back. "Gods, learn when to quit, will you?" Not so much a request as a warning. He is already slicking a hefty dollop of lube between the pads of his fingers. "Anything in particular I should be mindful of?"

"The insides work just fine. The outside needed reconstruction, but they built on what could be saved, so that great ass is all me. Add to your cyborg user guide that the anus is remade from a silicone compound. It should have more give, but I'm not sure. I haven't been fooling around with it since the change. What I mean is," his brother wraps up his disclosure with a theatrically timed lower pitch, "I have been saving myself up for a special occasion."

"Genji!" Hanzo clasps him by the nape and shoves the impudent brat's face into the pillow. He works a punishing finger into him to the knuckle, but Genji thwarts his intention, sucking in the intrusion. The pillow does little to muffle his moan.

Genji's inner walls are soft tissue, so Hanzo has to be careful, no matter how permissive his hole. Despite his muscles protesting the scissoring motion, Genji remains wonderfully compliant, remembers not to clamp down. Hanzo adds a third finger, the promise of something bigger. It elicits a minimal reaction. Feeling daring, he fills his insatiable brother with a fourth finger, entranced anew by the marvel that is Genji, accommodating effortlessly all he bestows upon him. The basic beast in him wants to test limits, push to perverse ruin, make Genji cry out. No, while Genji may invite that in the future, they will do it properly this time.

"Genji, are you still with me?" Hanzo asks after he withdraws his fingers. His brother has been reduced to doped giggles, his gaze glassy and distant.

His voice seems to jerk Genji away from a precarious mind frame, his steady movements as he pushes himself back to all fours dispelling Hanzo's worries. "I am ready. Don't abuse the lube, I happen to like the drag."

Hanzo has always been amused by how particular Genji is about taking cock. It's hard to get annoyed with all his demands because if anything, they are a set up for his own downfall. There are few things more gratifying in this world than watching his big-mouthed brother completely unravel. So he sheathes his dick in one long thrust and Genji sobs with it. "Yes! Be mean to me, _Anija_! Hnnnng, fucking hell, that hurt just right! Please move, I want it to keep hurting like that… Oh yes, don't hold back, use me, please… Fuck, I missed your cock… needed it…"

Hanzo enfolds Genji's trim waist with an iron grip and plunges into a ruthless slam-slam-slam tempo. His lungs might as well be punctured balloons for how they reject air before they can fully expand to ease the burn inside him. He just grunts helplessly with a dried throat as he slots their hips together again and again, commanding pleasure from that perfect ass.

Genji slips on the sheets, his spine a tense bow. Hanzo reaches out to pet the titanium vertebrae at the back of his neck in a soothing gesture that from him turns into an arrogant one. Genji finds purchase by latching onto the headboard and Hanzo hits his sweet spot with deliberate delay. The headboard becomes dented under Genji's hands as his hole spasms around Hanzo's cock, enticing him towards the edge. A wonder he has held out this long, but one more display of superhuman strength from Genji might really push it too far.

Neither would appreciate such straightforward release. Besides, Hanzo has to get a point across before that. He wraps his fist in the ribbon at the base of Genji's head and tugs, forcing his upper body into a vertical line. He whispers into the complex mechanism over Genji's ear, "I know what you're doing. You are still trying to hide."

Genji enacts a token protest against his grip. They both know he could easily break out of it, reverse their roles, but he remains conditioned by hierarchy to obey. Genji used to extend that dynamic to sex whenever it suited him, and now it seems to suit him _a lot._ "I am literally wide open for you, impaled on your cock. Difficult to hide like this. Will you just fucking move again?"

"You chose that position with a clear purpose," Hanzo grits out, finally restraining Genji. "What, did you think that I would put up with it only for old times' sake? You must have misjudged my confusion at our reunion as disgust for your new form and I certainly didn't help matters with my continuous avoidance.

"Did you honestly come here to offer yourself like… some pleasure object? Genji, you are worthy of love. The circumstances are indeed unfortunate, but even now you are a _work of art._ I don't prefer the old you over the new you. I need to make sure you are not just settling for me out of desperation." He chuckles at himself. "Hard to tell which of us is more desperate. Even so, I am serious. Nod if you understand."

Genji's damp hair strokes his acceptance against Hanzo's temple. He tries to nuzzle the side of his face, but is impeded by the pointy antennae that apparently don't come off with the rest of his headgear. If his brother weren't a grown man in his thirties, Hanzo would consider the gesture… cute. A turnaround from the lewd Genji before. This one is almost skittish.

Hanzo hurries to fix the mood. He hasn't been required to talk so much in ages. "I am glad, Genji. Because amidst all change there is one constant. You are _mine._ No one will ever fill you as good as your big brother, am I right? Don't worry, I am going to fuck my very name into your machine body so they will just look at you and know without a doubt who you belong to." To help his declaration, he rams his dick into Genji's prostate with impeccable accuracy, letting it linger there.

Steam curls up from the vents on Genji's abdomen, an extra cue for efficient ministrations. He gasps into their renewed rhythm, "You improved your dirty talk. Not fair, Hanzo. I think— Aaaaah!"

Genji meets him halfway, short bounces of his ass on Hanzo's cock, though the latter still controls the intensity of the thrusts. He perverts his marksman training into grazing that electrifying bundle of nerves each time. One of his hands is at Genji's throat, the other moving from the thick muscles of his thigh to his leaking erection. Genji doesn't stand a chance. "Then come, my love."

"How dare— Fuck!" His brother wrests out of his hold, doubling over. His sperm coats Hanzo's hand, drips through his fingers. His robotic limbs that should no longer experience fatigue give out. He is trembling all over. "Ughhh, damn it…"

Face down and ass up, Genji pushes weakly into Hanzo, contracts his walls around him. Hanzo loses it. He pounds that divine pocket of heat with abandon, ready to explode.

Genji fumbles behind him to grab Hanzo's buttocks, drawing him in deeper. "You can come inside… It's okay, I want it."

His orgasm swells like a bruise under the entire skin. Tears sting the corners of his eyes as his cock throbs with spurt after spurt of his seed. By comparison, the opium he was obligated to smoke at the Yakuza negotiations induced him a milder high. He pulls out with a splash of fluids and lies on top of Genji until the faintness passes.

Hanzo is reluctant to separate from Genji even for the length of a shower, which would only become redundant thanks to the state of the sheets, but besides the layer of sex, there is also the grit of the mission. He shuffles to the bathroom to perform hasty ablutions, more preoccupied with his mirror reflection. The feral expression framed by clumps of sweaty hair strikes him as that of a double. Only once he dabs his torso with a wet towel does he notice red fingerprints on his chest, hoping other marks will bloom by tomorrow.

He runs the other end of the towel under the tap and returns to his brother. He wipes the backs of his thighs and his perineum where the bulk of the come has trickled out, squeezing his asshole to get rid of everything. After Genji's front is clean too, Hanzo scrubs the stains on the sheets so at least they won't crust. At the huffs of impatience, he throws the towel next to the laundry basket.

The tight fit bed doesn't excuse his being crushed. "Genji, you're heavy," Hanzo deadpans, because he thought this fact should be common sense for his armour-clad cyborg brother.

"You've never called me that before," Genji whispers as he starts to fidget.

"Well, that used to be a touchy topic for you, but now, with all the reinforced—"

"Not that. I didn't expect to hear sweet nothings from you."

Hanzo chokes on his heart. He pretends to mull his answer by humming. "It wasn't sweet nothings and you don't have to say anything back."

"Mhmmm, I won't. For a while."

They eventually settle on their sides, legs snugly tangled, Genji nestled into his chest. Only one of them will complain of numb arms in the morning. He asks Athena to set an alarm at a decent hour. When Genji twitches out of sleep much earlier, they pretend it's not Hanzo's fault.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally carry through with an attempt at writing and it's incest. So proud.


End file.
